Baker's Delight
by WiddleWombat
Summary: My contribution for Fandom4Texas. Pastry Chef Bella is in dire need of a bakery assistant. Ex-pro-football player Emmett rescues her from a broken cooler – and takes the job. How long can they work together before sparks, and flour, fly? Rated M: Lemons


**My contribution for Fandom4Texas.** **Pastry Chef Bella is in dire need of a bakery assistant. Ex-pro-football player Emmett rescues her from a broken cooler – and takes the job. How long can they work together before sparks, and flour, fly? Rated M for Bear Claws; Cheese Bread and Lemons. Big thanks to Christag Banners for the delightfully NSFW banner; Nebravesgirl for the plot bunny and technical editing and Aunt Bell for her unbeatable beta-ing.**

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><p><em><strong>Bakers Delight Saturday<strong>_

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><p>The delicious scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts into my bakery kitchen and I stifle the urge to drool. It's five in the morning and I've been up since midnight baking to meet our daily orders. I did hear Edward come in and start the coffee machine a few minutes ago, but I'm mad at him for being late, so I'm ignoring him. However, ignoring him will become harder once he has coffee to offer.<p>

"Hey Bella," my cousin greets as he passes me my favourite, a large mocha latte. I know he knows I'm mad.

"You're late." I chide, leaving out the huge dressing down I had intended for him, a dressing down fitting for being five whole hours late. I had coffee now, I could act a little calmer.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. I met someone last night." His grin is sheepish.

I pretend to bang my head against the nearest brick wall, a childish attempt to show how I feel about his excuse but I'm a natural drama queen and Edward knows this.

He has the decency to look contrite. "I'm sorry Bella, I'm not built to work these hours, I just don't wake up at midnight naturally."

I scoff, we both know he wouldn't have even been ready for bed by midnight last night. In fact, his car was outside the local nightclub at midnight, I saw it as I drove to work.

I'd allowed him a few months of leniency. After all, he had lost his father, my uncle, quite unexpectedly. I had needed to grieve too, but I still maintained my routine, opening the bakery very early each morning, baking methodically as my uncle had taught me. I think being able to continue his work has been therapeutic for me, but the fact remained that it was more than a one person job. And Edward wasn't helping.

Almost as if he could read my thoughts, Edward was anxious. "What can I do to fix this?"

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><p><em><strong>Sunday<strong>_

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><p>I yawn and unlock the shop, midnight again and as usual, Edward is not here. I wonder if it's the same girl as last night. I'm mildly surprised by the notice in our shop window– apparently we're hiring a baking assistant. At least he's trying.<p>

With most of the bake finished or baking, I open the shop doors to the public at five sharp. As if on cue, it started to rain outside. I wondered how many people would brave the rain for their fresh bread. If I had a choice, I would be curled up cosily in bed – ideally next to a very sexy male specimen. Mm. It had been a while since I'd been in THAT situation. Years in fact. Part of me was jealous Edward could stay up late partying and meeting new people, knowing that I, his ever reliable cousin, would pick up his slack and open our shop.

I decided to restock the cooler to distract me from my negative thoughts, besides, I would hear the service bell if anyone happened to call in while I was out the back. It would be better than moping over the boyfriend I didn't have.

Far from relaxed and distracted, I'm frustrated by how Edward has completely ignored my system for stacking the cooler, I huff and throw boxes around – trying to restore order. Yes, an assistant would be awesome right now. I'm kicking a box under a shelf when the entire half-filled rack starts to wobble precariously. Uh oh. The racking is almost as old as I am and the creaking noises become ominous. I try to steady the shelves, hoping to still their violent shaking but it doesn't work.

I watch horrified as it falls towards me in slow motion. There is nowhere to move, the cooler door is at least two feet away, and the wall only a foot behind me. As the shelves began to empty entirely, I cover my face with my arms and brace against the crash.

Moments later I dare to open my eyes and take stock of the situation. Things aren't so bad. I'm not hurt, at least. I try to wriggle out from under the shelving. Oh crap. I am stuck. Really stuck. If I wriggle too much I'm going to hurt myself. I'm going to need help. Knowing I sometimes over-react, I try to make myself think logically… my cell phone is in my handbag, my handbag is in the other room. Okay, so that's not going to work. I can't help but start to panic. It's a cooler and I'm only wearing light clothing – I'm sure people can die from getting too cold. I'm going to die!

I begin shivering violently. I doze off and wake with a start seconds later – people fall asleep before they die in the cold, I saw it on the nature channel. I'm dying, I must be. I start to cry and the tears become cold streaks on my cheeks.

The service bell rings and I think I've never heard a more melodic rescue bell. "Help! Help me! I'm stuck!" I scream out, panicked by my situation but excited by the prospect of rescue. Maybe I won't die today?

"I can help you, stay calm. I'm here now." My rescuer had a deep sexy voice, I'm sure he intended it to be soothing, but hell, it was sexy. He moves the shelving back up to standing but I find I'm too close to death to stand. He kneels before me and I notice that he smells absolutely delicious.

"Are you okay, miss?" I open my eyes to the chest of the sexiest man I have ever seen in my life. He is taking off his shirt and the ripple of his muscles is mesmerizing. I couldn't answer his question if I tried, I've completely lost my ability to form coherent sentences and I'm not sure if it's from my near death experience, or from the site of a bare male chest. He holds his warm shirt to my head and I inhale deeply, the shirt smells like him. Sunshine, warm days, cheesebread. Random. I love cheesebread.

Moments pass as we sit in the cooler, him shirtless and magnificent and me speechless and inhaling deeply – I can't get enough of his scent. I am dangerously close to actually _licking_ his shirt. And even I know that would be creepy.

"The bleeding isn't bad," He pulls the shirt away from my head to check and I stifle a sob. Give me back the shirt. I crave more of his yumminess. He stands, tucking his shirt in his back pocket, and considers me for a moment before surprising me by bending down and scooping me up. It feels so natural being cradled against him as he takes me into my own kitchen and sits me on the bakers table.

I find myself staring into his deep blue eyes. "You look like you've had a horrible fright. Can I get you anything? Coffee?" Oh, that voice! I nod, still speechless.

He looks uncertain as he walks behind the counter and starts up the coffee machine. I'm too distracted by his shirtless godlike body to wonder where he learnt his barista skills. He brings me a perfect coffee and I realise how I must look. I bet it's not good. I accept the coffee graciously and excuse myself with a mumble, making a beeline for the bathroom.

Bleh. My hair is all over the place and I have a very small cut on my forehead. I blush, realising this is what he was holding his shirt against. It barely rated a sticky plaster. I tidy myself up as best I can and venture back to the kitchen. He has his shirt back on, making it much easier for me to converse.

"Um, thanks. For rescuing me."

He smiled widely. "I could never refuse a damsel in distress, it was my pleasure."

I blush again. "I'm sorry, you must have wanted breakfast. It's on the house, my shout. What would you like?"

It seemed so inadequate to offer my savior a bread roll but his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh a Bear Claw please."

I put two in a packet and offer them to him. He smiles and graciously accepts the packet. "Thank you." Two simple words before he walks out my door and into the rainy street.

My heart skips a beat. I didn't get his name. I didn't get his number. It's a small town and I don't already KNOW him. This bugs me most. I know everyone around here. Another customer comes in for breakfast and I swing back into routine. It's only six a.m. The entire drama from when I became trapped until now was less than half an hour. I blush as I remember how close to death I thought I'd become, I was probably trapped for less than ten minutes! I avoid the cooler for now, I'll phone someone to look at the shelving as soon as the hardware store opens – before_ I_ go in there again that shelving is going to be firmly screwed to the wall!

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><p><em><strong>Late Sunday Morning<strong>_

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><p>Not unusually for a cold day, it's been busy. I'm closing at eleven and even though it's only ten I'm already exhausted. I make myself another coffee as I survey the new shelving in the cooler. It's much safer and I nod to myself, satisfied. At least I won't be dying in a cooler anytime soon.<p>

I've also worked out who my rescuer might be. By local accounts, it would seem that Emmett McCartney is the twenty-four year old, very single, son of the new hospital superintendant. I've been wondering all morning how to somehow thank him properly, two Bear Claws are hardly adequate reward for saving my life. Unfortunately, it seemed most of the other women in the town wanted to sink their claws into the new man in town. I would have to be…sneaky.

So I was taken completely by surprise when five minutes before close, my knight in shining armour walked through my door again. I tried my very best to remain calm, even though my heart had other ideas.

He seemed nervous. "I saw you were advertising for help when I was, uh, here, this morning. I've brought my application."

My jaw dropped. I collected myself in time to smile, "Well sure, I'll have a look." I took the application he offered over the counter and walked swiftly out to the kitchen and into the cooler, closing the door firmly behind me. Emmett McCartney. Yes, this is him. The rumours are true. I squeal in excitement and flick through his application. I couldn't read anything other than his name. An errant thought entered my mind "Bella McCartney", yes it had a ring to it. I composed myself and walked back to the store.

To my sheer horror and embarrassment, Emmett was still in front of the counter, sporting a very sexy smirk.

"Do you read all job applications in the cooler?" He enquired politely, making be blush for what seemed like the hundredth time since I'd first met him this morning.

"Oh…um…no." I stammered, embarrassed to be caught. "I was checking something else…" He knew it was a lie but he smiled politely regardless.

"Is there anything I can do to support my application?" He asked, a little too anxiously. "I really need an excuse not to join the Country Club with my mother."

I laughed, "I suppose you could have a trial start? Meet you at the front door at midnight?"

His smile sent shivers of delight racing down my spine. This was too good to be true. As I locked the door half an hour later, I said a silent prayer. Please let Edward sleep in again in the morning, I want to get to know my assistant better.

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><p><em><strong>Monday morning – wee hours<strong>_

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><p>Edward isn't here, and Emmett is. Perfect. Perhaps more than perfect, if that's even possible. Emmett has been a diligent student, but it's clear he has never baked before. As I delicately redo his twists he groans in frustration.<p>

"Please, please Bella, just show me how to do them properly?" His request catches me off-guard. I KNOW what he said, but in my mind his begging had me doing much naughtier things than showing him how to twist buns. It takes me a moment to push my naughty thoughts to the back of my mind and process what he really said. In that moment he has already walked behind me and slipped his arms around me, his hands underneath my own.

"Show me," he insists. His breath brushes down my neck as I start to manipulate the bread using my hands over his. I'm shaking, and I think it's from desire. Yes, I definitely desire him, with this proximity I can detect that scent again, so distinctly his, so different, so delicious. I worry I might drool on the buns. He seems so calm; I wonder if he feels the desire radiating from me? Or if it's in any way reciprocated? Even just a tiny bit?

I'm disappointed when he announces, after only a few short minutes, that he has the hang of it now. It would seem he does. I slip out from under him and continue with my own work. Even with his lack of baking experience, we manage to finish forty minutes before open. I marvel at how much difference an assistant makes, with a few weeks training I might even be able to have a morning off!

I offer to make Emmett a coffee as we wait for the timers to shrill. It's too early to open the shop doors yet. He takes his coffee white with two. Same as me. I blush quietly at this new similarity. It would seem I had quite a bit in common with Emmett so far.

Relaxing with our coffee's he smiled over at me. "How is my trial going?"

I grin back, "Oh, I think I might keep you." He grins too. I become more serious. "It's been a while since I've finished the bake early. Months in fact."

"Since your uncle died?" Emmett enquires.

I bristle. "How do you know that?"

Emmett blushes. "I'm sorry, I can see how that would be inappropriate of me to ask. I just… I guess I did a bit of research before I applied here. I didn't mean to pry."

I shrug, trying not to feel that pang of grief whenever my uncle was mentioned. "I guess the whole town knows. I just, I figured since you were new in town you wouldn't."

Emmett shakes his head. "You underestimate my mother. We've lived in three towns my entire life and she's been social queen of them all. Give it time."

I can't help but giggle at the thought of our current social queen, my friend Alice, being insulted by this insinuation. Emmett smiles at my giggling, but he doesn't pry. I like his easy, laidback manner. He seems to take life as it comes and not get caught up in its general chaos.

"Why a bakery assistant?" I ask, mostly to change the topic.

Emmett raises an eyebrow in my direction. "Did you read my application at all?"

I laugh and shake my head, "No! I told you I had other things to do in the cooler…" Evidence to support the lie I was caught in yesterday. We both laugh.

"I dunno." He shrugs. "Up until last year I was a professional footballer. I mean, I worked occasionally, mostly in the hospital cafeteria so Dad could keep an eye on me, but I had a pretty bad injury. I'm not even supposed to be running again with my knee and it kills me to have lost that, you know?" He looked so sad and serious. I was falling into his deep blue eyes, caught up in his sad story. "I'm tired of being babied by my mother, I know she means well but I'm really ready to move on now. I just need a job, something to throw myself into, you know, save some money and get out on my own again."

I nodded. "So it's just a job?" I checked. I was a little hurt by this, I'd have preferred a baking prodigy.

He shakes his head, "No way. It's fate! I mean I've lived here for weeks now and never ran past your shop. My knee was aching and I knew I had to rest and while I was training I kept a strict diet, so I haven't had Bear Claws for years and I saw you had them… then you were hiring and I've been looking for work ever since we moved but it's such a small town… then you gave me free Bear Claws… it's definitely fate." He nods enthusiastically and I laugh. I don't believe in fate. And the Bear Claws weren't free – they were for saving my life. But I don't want to stifle his enthusiasm.

Edward taps on the door of the shop and I jump, startled. It's five already and I haven't unlocked. The timers in the kitchen buzz at the same time, I let Emmett handle them as I rush to unlock the door. Edward has his own key but he's seen me having coffee and so he's waiting outside with a huge smirk on his face. I open the door and drag the A-frame chalkboard with our specials out to the footpath. Edward helps.

"Who's your boyfriend, Bella?" He's teasing me and I blush, hoping Emmett doesn't hear.

"Shush up. That's our new bakery assistant."

"Uh huh. Looked like you were hanging off his every word just now, you sure he's not more than a baking assistant?"

I shook my head vehemently, "No Edward. You can't say things like that – workplace harassment and all." I swat him inside and give him several meaningful looks. Fortunately Edward was polite as he introduced himself to Emmett.

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><p><em><strong>Tuesday just before closing time<strong>_

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><p>Edward pulls me into the cooler for a chat, and even though I know the shelves are screwed firmly to the wall, I still shudder. Edward checks Emmett is serving customers out the front before he closes the door behind us.<p>

"Uh hey, I was wondering how your bakery assistant is working out?" He moves his arms nervously from his hips to his pockets and back again.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "It's only been two days, but yeah, he's working out. What do _you _want, Edward?"

He looks up and blushes. "Is it that obvious?" I nod my confirmation. "Okay, so I was wondering if maybe we could rearrange the roster a bit. Like you open and do all the baking and then I'll come in around six and you could go home as early as seven? I'll shut the shop, stay until lunch." He says it all very fast, I have to listen carefully. It sounds like a half decent offer.

"So… you are offering to start at the same time you have been for months, but I get to go home early? That sounds very reasonable."

I see relief spread across Edwards demeanor.

"But what about days off?" I know I can't keep up working every day for ever. Edward tenses again.

"Alternate weekends off?" He offers. I grin. I can tell he's making a huge sacrifice offering to open every second weekend.

"You know, Emmett is learning fast. I'm sure it won't be long and he could do an open on his own." At this stage Emmett is only going to work weekdays, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind an occasional weekend shift, he seems to like it here.

I can tell it's been a weight from Edwards shoulders having this discussion with me and I chuckle at how relieved he looks. Emmett observes my amusement and asks if he's missed a joke.

"Oh, you might have a promotion soon. Edward has offered to open every second weekend on his own and I'm not sure how long he'll do that for. But it means I'll have my first weekend off in months!"

Emmett looked surprised and delighted, I guessed a promotion was a small thrill for him after not working for so long. I helped him with the dishes in what I was finding to be comfortable silence, so he had me completely floored with his next request.

"Do you want to come out with me Friday night?"

I dropped the trays I had been drying and they clattered noisily to the floor. Was this a date? Oh please let it be a date. We both knelt to grab the trays and he nervously backtracked.

"You don't have to. You know, you just said how you never get to go out because you're working, and I've never been out because I don't know anyone…" Oh. So it was a pity date? Or worse, he wanted me to be his wingman so he could meet other girls. I blushed, mostly humiliated.

"I'll think about it," I blurted as I scrubbed the dropped trays furiously.

Emmett only eyed me curiously before gathering his things and saying a quick farewell to us both, assuring me he would see me early the next morning for his shift. I gave a courtesy nod and kept scrubbing the pans, hoping he wouldn't press me for an answer until I knew for sure how he felt about me.

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><p><em><strong>Thursday night, 10pm<strong>_

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><p>I couldn't sleep for thoughts of Emmett, my mind just wouldn't slow down. I gave up trying about an hour ago and decided to head into work early. I still hadn't given him an answer, but he hadn't pressed me either. It was almost as if he'd forgotten he'd asked, and this frustrated me no end.<p>

Rolling the dough on my bakers table, I worked furiously. My hands keeping pace with the thoughts in my head: Did he like me? Well, yes. He appeared to like me very much, as a friend. Sigh. Did he find me attractive? Um, well he'd mentioned something about my hair being lovely yesterday, and I'm SURE I've caught him staring at my ass appreciatively more than once. Then again, I'm sure I've been CAUGHT staring at his ass far more than I've caught him. I just can't work it out. At least I understand why most workplaces have an anti-fraternisation clause in their workplace agreements. This was seriously distracting.

I stop for a drink of water and decide to put my iPod on. I clip the iPod on my hip and run the ear-buds up under my apron to my ears. Pumping up the tunes distracts me from everything except the baking I have in front of me, and that's what I need right now.

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><p><em><strong>Friday Morning, just after midnight (EPOV)<strong>_

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><p>Shit, I'm late for work, and in my first week too! Worse, it's the boss that has me distracted. I seriously just wasted ten minutes practicing how to tell her I like her in the mirror, and now I'm ten minutes late for work. I pull up beside her car, she's already inside and she will have noticed I am late. I can hardly tell her how I feel when I'm in some sort of workplace disgrace.<p>

Telling people how I feel has never been my strong point. I've always been more of a 'show them' type of guy. It always worked with the cheerleaders, with my fans, with the nurses at Dad's hospital… but it was only physical, and it never lasted. I want to start something with Bella that will last, there's something about her that clicks with me, something more than physical, and I want to see where it goes. I've tried several times this past week to initiate a conversation, but it turns out clumsy. Half the time she hasn't even noticed I've been talking, I'm sure she doesn't even realise I like her. I thump my hands on the steering wheel. I've GOT to ask her again about tonight, at least before my shift is over.

I lock my car and head inside. The door is unlocked and the place smells delicious, plus it's super warm. Usually it takes a couple of hours before the place starts to heat up and smell good. Weird. I call out a greeting as I stuff my water bottle and wallet under the counter and put an apron on. Bella doesn't reply, at first I think maybe she's in the cooler and can't hear me, so I'm surprised when I see her with her back to me, working at the bakers table.

I'm about to greet her again when I notice she is dancing. Not seriously dancing, like what you see in a nightclub, but she's moving to the tune of something I can't hear. I see the iPod clipped to her waistband and smile. That's why she can't hear me, and why she probably hasn't noticed I was a few minutes late. I don't mind watching the way her ass bounces as she moves about to the music. In fact, I could stand here and watch it all day.

I get the strangest desire to hold that ass as it moves… hold her hips and sway with her… touch her… I have a fleeting thought, I could lose my job if I do … but as fleeting thoughts are prone to do, it disappeared. I move forward.

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><p><em><strong>Friday morning, just after midnight (BPOV)<strong>_

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><p>I don't realise I've been dancing to my music until my hips are grabbed firmly from behind and his body is pressed against mine. I know it's Emmett, I would know that scent anywhere. It takes my breath away.<p>

He spins me around by my hips and flicks my ear-buds from my ears, pressing me up against the bakers table. The bakery is eerily silent without my blaring music. All I can hear is my own pulse pumping wildly in my ears. He doesn't speak as he leans his head towards mine, I try not to faint in delight. Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?

Our lips meet softly, neither of us giving too much away. He pries a little, presses a little harder, and that's all I need lose my limited self control, I've wanted this all week. I throw my arms around his neck and pull his head in closer to mine, he responds enthusiastically, lifting me onto the bakers table and following my lead with the steamy kisses. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him tight, craving friction. Our kisses are leaving me light-headed, we have to break for air and I worry things will be awkward. Emmett smiles shyly before leaning in to kiss me again, and we head for round two.

I have his apron undone and I'm fiddling at the hem of his shirt, trying to touch his skin. I manage to slip my hands up to his chest and he hisses at the contact. It emboldens me, I tear his shirt from his back, over his head, and press myself up against him, pulling him as close as possible. Every little thing is magnified for me, his kisses are hot and desperate, the muscles in his back ripple as we kiss and he grunts when I tug at his hair. I like the feel of his kisses mixed with grunts and I tug his hair more. My legs are still firmly around his waist and he's starting to thrust against me as he kisses and caresses my body.

He pauses, pulling away for only a second to tear my apron off. He kisses away from my mouth and down my neck as he undoes my shirt. It makes my legs jelly and I let them fall from his waist, not before noticing what he's packing down there. I want him so bad I'm embarrassed by my need, my panties are completely soaked, perhaps my jeans even. I hope he can't tell.

I let him remove my shirt and unhook my bra. He returns to kissing me hard and deep, caressing my breasts lightly then alternating with hard squeezes and pinches. It's driving me insane. I wrap my legs around his waist again and he groans.

"Take me," I whisper. Hoping like hell he knows exactly what I mean.

He undoes the button fly of my jeans and presses me back to lie on the table. I thank God I put pretty panties on this morning, although at the speed he removes them I'm not sure he noticed. The aluminum top of the bakers table is cold against my back and I shiver in delight.

He wriggles my body up the table until only my ankles hang over the edge, he's on the table with me. Above me. Deliciously naked. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him down into my kisses. If he doesn't take me soon I'll die of need.

"Wait." Emmett stops, propping himself up on his forearms. I think he's going to ask me about contraception and I'm close to blurting out that I'm already on the pill when he surprises me again.

"I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. After work. A date. I really like you Bella, will you say yes?"

I can't believe he's stopped to finally ask me this again. "Yes!" I blurt out, a little too eagerly. His smile is priceless as he leans down to kiss me again and I feel him slide his length against me. He moves a hand down, guiding, and soon he's filled me completely. I bite my lip in pleasure, stifling my moans.

He needs no more encouragement; he begins pumping softly, rhythmically, inside me. I want faster, and deeper, and he senses this – changing pace to suit me. I grab at the table edges, holding myself from sliding off the table as I buck against his thrusts. He's holding his weight up on his arms as he thrusts hard, he's covered in a slick of sweat and I throw safety to the wind, releasing the table to pull him down for more kisses. Hungry kisses. His scent is overwhelming and I succumb to it, licking along his jaw and biting at his ear. It sends him into a pumping frenzy and I scream in delight – moving to grip his ass firmly with both hands. As I come closer and closer to exploding, I dig my fingernails into his ass, kneading it like I would the bread. He only bucks more erratically and it tips me over the edge – screaming as wave after wave of pleasure courses through my veins.

As my senses return I find him lying with his full weight on my body, his head on my chest, breathing heavily. I smooth his hair and smile. Yes, that type of performance deserves a break. The sharp trill of a timer interrupts our peace and we both jump up, helping each other unload the oven, still naked. Instead of being shy as we tidy ourselves up, we are giggling. Somehow we have spread flour from one end of the kitchen to the other, and there's a whole batch of bagels that is going to have to be written off.

We have the kitchen, and ourselves, tidied just as Edward arrives to open shop for the morning. Due to my insomnia the night before, all the bakes are ready to go on time and I check the kitchen carefully one last time for evidence of our rendezvous, smiling satisfied, in more ways than one, from the mornings efforts.

Edward grins at me and play punches Emmett's arm. "So you two finally killed that sexual tension I see."

I blush deep red. There is no way he could know that. I sneak a glance at Emmett and he's looking over at me, a mixture of horror and amusement on his face. He gives in to the amusement when Edward laughs and the bakery is filled with Edward and Emmett's guffaws.

"Oh Bella," Emmett gasps in between laughs, "your blouse is inside out."


End file.
